I just found out that I am being honored for some work I did before this mess all started. I feel humbled and honored at the same time. It also feels like someone is shaking me and telling me to wake up.
My entire life came to a screeching halt on D-day. I couldn’t go to work for three days, and when I did go in I moved around in a daze. I have since been told I was in physical shock for several months. I functioned but did not do anything I would consider exemplary… not like this work for which I am receiving honors.
There were many days when just getting through the day seemed like a monumental task. But I slowly got back into life in some ways. I became a part-time fitness instructor in addition to my job. I became a grandmother a few months after D-day and I pick my granddaughter up from the sitter every day to spend a little time with her. I continued my job and did it well. I started this blog. I settled into the new house we bought just before D-day. It’s not finished. Some things are still just too difficult to focus on, but at least we’re settled in. Everything took longer than it did before and I struggled to maintain focus, but I got most things done. All good things… all things I am happy about… but I did not and could not do anything that required the focused and dedicated effort that I put into my life before.
I just got by. My brain was fried. And then I found out that I had Fibromyalgia. I feared that I was doomed to forever be a shell of who I used to be.
But this award has shaken me up. What the hell am I doing? Can I put myself back together? I’m not Humpty Dumpty. The stupidity and immaturity and delusional thinking that my husband showed cannot be the death of DJ as she was prior to D-day.
I know people who were never the same after their spouse had an affair. My aunt, for one. People always talked about how Auntie changed after her divorce. She went kind of crazy and was rather unstable for the rest of her life. I was too young when she divorced to remember the change, but that’s what everyone said. Pitiful.
No, that’s not going to be me. Absolutely not.